Today in third period
instead of being productive,
I wrote the Russian alphabet
and learned to say
"Thank you",
and "sweetheart".
And I wrote in a frantic haze
an entire page
about him
because it felt sick
again and so very sad
and I had such tunnel vision
as I wrote.
It was so fervent
it was so quick.
An entire page in just a
few minutes,
maybe three.
It was like throwing up.
And I kept catching you
out of the corner
of my eye, catching
snippets of your voice.
And it was so
like putting lighter fluid
on a campfire.
Flares up
so fast and red,
the coals glowing.
Sick in my insides
like you wouldn't believe.
it's reaching a point
of disaster.
I walk in a haze
sometimes,
wanting to
take the lapels
of your jacket
(if you ever wore one)
like in movies
and then kissing your
face.
My little life should not be so arduous.
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